


voyeuse

by alphaqueer



Series: taming of the alpha [2]
Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphaqueer/pseuds/alphaqueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>well, that escalated quickly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	voyeuse

**Author's Note:**

> kinda part two to "no labels" but doesn't have to be if you don't want

The room is lit perfectly, with dimmed lighting and just the right amount of candles, although he’s not sure why Danny has them. Maybe he’s a secret romantic, maybe Lydia brought them with her, maybe this has all been a trap from the beginning. All Derek knows is that he’s very confused. How these two barely-legals led him into Danny’s bedroom all the way from the safety of the Hale mansion ruins is beyond him, but right now, they’re all downing tequila like it’s a weekend – it’s not – and there’s a glint in both of their eyes that’s setting him a little on edge.

Lydia, perched on the back of the desk chair, passes the bottle to Danny as Derek lies back on the bed, resting on his forearms. The walk from the house across town tired them all and their eyes are hooded with the added drain of the booze, but Derek can smell excitement coating their skins slick. Except he doesn’t want to bring it up. He wants to wait and see what they’ve got planned, see if they have the balls to follow through now they’ve lead their horse to water.

“So Derek, truth or dare?” Lydia says, and Derek meets Danny’s eyes in disdain. Danny almost spits out his drink, choking on sarcastic laughter. Lydia looks affronted but amused, staring at Derek until he has to respond.

“Oh, you’re serious?” He says, shocked. The question, or rather the game, had come out of nowhere. He expected some questions about his family, or about being a werewolf, not knowing if Scott or that Stiles kid could keep their mouths shut. But truth or dare? “Dare? I guess?”

Her eyes grow wide; her head seems haloed instantly by a fiery energy. She dramatically and largely makes a show of thinking of a dare: pursing her lips and putting a finger to the corner of her mouth, furrowing her brow and tilting her to the side. Derek watches, amused, and takes the bottle from Danny, who looks slightly embarrassed on Lydia’s behalf. He’s smiling, the flickering candlelight showing his perfect teeth and Derek realises too late he’s been staring. He looks back at Lydia who has a brilliant thought shining in her eyes.

“I dare you … to kiss Danny.” Well, he should’ve seen that one coming. Dare was always an awkward sexual task when he was a teenager; good to know things never change.

“Lydia.” Danny said, his voice low and soft but meaningful.

She tried for innocence but it couldn’t mask her grin. “What?”

Danny turned to Derek, who was taking a large swallow of tequila, and gave him sympathetic look. “You don’t have to. We don’t have to –” Derek’s mouth cut him off and after a short gasp from Lydia, the only sound in the room was their kiss, a wet, slow, tender affair with tongues tracing lips, lapping over each other’s mouths as hands snaked around to grab and grasp napes for purchase. Sheets rustles as Derek presses further into the kiss, leaning Danny back to the head of the bed. Deft reflexes lead the bottle to the bedside table and Derek’s mouth finds Danny’s jaw and makes its mark.

Minutes pass and the kissing fades to biting fades to nibbling. Derek is still lying on Danny, holding Danny’s arms over his head. Derek is heady with Danny’s scent and can feel Danny’s arousal through their denim. They both slowly turn to face Lydia, who bites her lips raw and who regards them both with an electric gaze.

 “How was that for you?” They’re both panting, Derek trying to look satisfied whilst hiding his modesty, which is pressing down hard on Danny’s crotch. Danny looks elated and expectant. There is a very new tension in the air, thick with sweetness that only Derek can smell but he has a feeling they can sense it too, only no one is saying anything. Lydia slides down the back of the chair gracefully, crossing her ankles as she reaches the seat. The air thickens and presses down on them. Derek notices for the first time how hot it is, and feels a small amount of sweat pooling between their chests. Lydia runs a hand idly across her collarbone, her nails passing noticeably through beads of perspiration idling along it.

She says it, whispers it, so softly, so quickly as though she daren’t say it at all. Her mouth barely moves, even Derek doubts he hears it at all. “Lick his chest.”

Derek turns to Danny and waits for it, waits for their eyes to meet, for the moment to pass, waits for the slightest hesitation. All Danny does, all he can manage to do, is nod. Then Derek is kissing him again, tugging at the hem of his tee and pulling it off of him, tearing their lips apart for a second before they’re kissing again, pressing hands into each other’s muscles, kneading each other like dough. Soon, Derek leaves Danny’s mouth, Danny moaning in protest before he feels a warmth on his neck, trailing down to his collarbone and then he just threads his fingers through Derek’s hair and gives in.

Lydia watches, the nail of her thumb between her teeth, as Derek leaves a wet trail on Danny’s neck that glows golden in the candlelight, and kisses and bites and licks his way down, ending the trail at a nipple where he sucks and bites and grins, looking towards Danny’s face as he elicits a moan from him. Derek tastes salt and citrus and sage on Danny’s skin as he moves from one nipple of the other, and leaves enough of a mark on each to last until the locker room tomorrow. The fingers in his hair pushes and rub and coax him to go lower, until his tongue ends up tracing around Danny’s navel and along each hip bone.

Danny looks down, past his chest, to see Derek as he grabs his waistband with his teeth. They look across the Lydia, who sits statue still, eyes as wide as a bush baby and a tiny, almost imperceptible upward curve playing on her lips. She’s gnaws a little on the nail still as she processes what is to happen next. She’s aroused with power and giddy with delight, but any elation would kill the mood and that’s far from what she wants to do. She longs to reach between her own thighs as the guys carry on edging each other, longs to explore inside her sex and reach a climax with Danny and Derek. But no, this isn’t about her getting off; this is about her power to get them both off.

“Take your shirt off.” Her voice is firmer now, her expression turning serious and dark. Derek obliges, tossing the t-shirt on the floor and resuming his position, looming over Danny’s crotch. His hands rest on either side of Danny, and Danny’s hands lay on top of his. Lydia shuffles in her seat, edging forward and crossing her ankles again. “Danny, you go on top. Straddle Derek.”

They move, the sound of Derek hitting the mattress thunderous. Danny’s face is a picture – part terrified, part excited, his lips and mouth and cheeks red with harsh kisses and stubble burn. Derek looks up at him looming over him, Danny pressing his hands into Derek’s flanks, massaging his ribs and obliques as he lowers himself, leans down, closer, closing in on his mouth, their noses almost touching, their breaths meeting and mingling. But then Danny turns to Lydia and asks a question without words.

“Undress him,” The next words are difficult to form but she knows she has to. They’ve all come this far, after having heard about Danny’s tryst with Derek at the nightclub, after waiting for Derek at his house after school, watching Danny’s ease with him and convincing him to hang with them both. Leading him to Danny’s house after begging him to buy some alcohol for them both, prying him so very delicately about him and Danny without giving away anything. So she swallows thickly, and says, “and then blow him.”

The spark on the flint is lit and Danny is ripping off Derek’s jeans with speed and roughness and his boxers are gone just as quickly and replaced by Danny’s mouth, kissing and sucking at Derek’s thighs, leaving damp red patches that fade just as quickly as they appear. Derek doesn’t even have time to be embarrassed or modest before Danny moves to his shaft and licks all the way up and swallows his hard dick in one go. He’s euphoric and flitters between watching Lydia watching them and closing his eyes and losing himself in all his other senses: smelling Lydia and Danny’s arousal – Lydia’s a potent floral scent that dances in his nose, Danny’s a hot citrus mix that sticks in his throat like honey – all over the room; mimicking Danny from before and tracing his fingers through his hair; listening to the murmurs and chokes and wet noises coming from his groin where Danny so masterfully works. Danny barely uses his hands but when he does, Derek is surprised at the roughness of his touch, but doesn’t hate it. He places his hand on Danny’s whenever he runs up and strokes his dick and swears he can feel Danny smile.

Danny’s skill exceeds Derek’s ability to put of coming and soon, he feels a climax building. Losing all sense of pride, his voice becomes a whimper, moaning lightly, begging for release, begging for Danny. Giving Danny no warning save for lacing his finger with his, Derek reaches the edge and comes hotly into Danny’s mouth, coming a load he built up for days. He quakes as he finishes unloading, feeling sweat pour over his forehead and on the sheet beneath him and over his palms.

Danny pulls off and swallows thickly, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. “Just as I remember.” He grins and Derek’s dick dares to harden again at the sight of his smile. Danny straddles Derek, undoing his fly. He turns to Lydia, who looks partly smug and partly shocked, and asks, “Do you mind if I … ?”

“Go ahead.” She finally manages to say as Danny pulls himself out of his briefs and begins the quick road to an orgasm, his eyes never leaving Derek’s. From his angle, post-orgasm, Derek looks so young and juvenile. Derek runs his hands up and down Danny’s thighs, leans forward to lick his way up to the base of his shaft, sucking love bites into his legs. A few moments later, Derek leans back and receives a chest covered in Danny’s come, has his mouth open, beckoning an aimed shot, but Danny is too lost in his orgasm, shaking a little above him, stroking himself dry until the last drop falls onto Derek’s stomach.

He falls forward, marrying their bodies as they kiss, sticky come bridging between them as they roll around, kissing, laughing, smiling. A few moments later, they break apart, recovering, panting. Derek props himself up on one elbow, toying with the come on Danny’s stomach, eyeing up Lydia. Danny rolls his head to the side and regards her too. They both seem to ask the same question: _Well?_

She’s chewing her nail again, sweating less but still, there’s a dark patch over her breasts and Derek can smell more. She grin a little, like a child caught doing something bad, and then claps her hands together suddenly. “Next time, let’s involve me, yes?”


End file.
